Xuѐ Jiā: Huá Chéng Zhī Yè
by Aldedron
Summary: Novelization of Blood Plus: Yakoujoushi, also known as City of the Night Walkers or Kowloon Nights
1. Yī Wǎn

**A/N**  
I'm sure you've never wondered, but here's the answer! This is seriously what I do all day at school- write random fanfiction -_- Most of it's random crap I'd never dare publisize *hides face in embarassment at thought*, but, _tokidoki_ it comes out decent. This'd be one of those in-school projects. I've been taking my _Blood+: Yakoujoushi_ to school for the past month, novelizing it in a spiral notebook. This's just the first chapter... And, as you'll see, I managed to improve vastly the further I got, so forgive the suckishness in the first half ^^'  
Anyways, the very knowledge that the story's based in Hong Kong made it so I translated what speech I could into Chinese, thus, the Zhōngwén spotted throughout this whole thing. I'm _pretty_ sure I translated everything...

So... Enjoy!

EDIT: 4/6/11  
I've gone through and fixed some annoying typos, as well as updating my changing punctuation style. Actually, the thing most annoying me was "chang-shan", 'cause I couldn't remember the correct name for the outfit at the time... It's "cheongsam", by the way. And I changed every last "Douryon" to "Do Leong"

* * *

**Xuè Jiā: Huá Chéng Zhī Yè****  
**_Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to..._

_Yī Wǎn (One Night)_

A deep night, still with dread. No stars shone despite the sky's smoggy clarity while empty structures creaked a lonesome howl, liquid dripping from rusted pipes. Loose wires swayed in a sudden breeze, unnatural in the stillness, as a creature took off, a black blemish upon the moon's silver disk. Below; far, far below; droplets of a dark liquid plipped unto the gray stone, a splash of color in this dismal, grayscale realm. Black locks ruffled slightly at the creature's departure, skin dry and wrinkled despite the young woman's true age. She lay still as death, pale as the disk beaming dimly above, hand open beside her as though trying to reach for that moon; for that light.

…

_Xiānggǎng, 1993 Nián 2 Yuè (Hong Kong, February 1993)_

"Xīxuѐguī (Vampire)?"

An ancient foe spoken of in this modern city, skyscrapers towering pyres of the current society against the dirty blue backdrop of a fine February day.

"Don't tell me you're going!"

Two young men stood out amongst the throngs of this overpopulated metropolis: one blonde, garbed in a loose bamboo print blouse like a wannabe-gangster; the other with spiky black locks swishing with his steps alongside loosely nondescript apparel. The younger of the two, the blonde, chased after his firm-aired companion desperately, frantic with worry at his ignored pleas.

"Although the newspapers have said that the cause of this fatal blood loss is unknown, as seen from the crime scene, there isn't a single trace of blood left on the corpse. That is definitely the work of a Xīxuѐguī, Sai-āníjī (Vampire, Sai-aniki)!"

'Sai' clenched his teeth, biting back a scoff.

"Báichī (Idiot)!" he snapped without pause. "It's not like in the movies; how could those things exist in reality!" His sharp eyes turned to give the blonde a pointed look, demanding his full attention. "We have our hands full with human criminals already. You are still an informant. No matter if you're a good or bad one, at least give me some useful information to investigate on."

Still, the blonde pestered. "Ah, yes, it's already three victims for this week, right? All of the victims looked like they had their blood sucked out, and, when discovered, the bodies looked very dry. The location is an abandoned area in Jiǔlóng Zhài Chéng (Kowloon Walled City) where nobody stays!" the blonde desperately pleaded. "…..The situation here is somehow abnormal."

At this, Sai halted, determination prevalent in his voice. "Abnormal or not, it doesn't matter. I definitely want to capture the criminal, and doing that is good enough for me."

The blonde wasn't yet ready to give in, though. "Even though it's like this, what are we going to do if they really are Xīxuѐguī (Vampire[s])! Going in there will definitely get you killed! Aren't you afraid at all, Sai-ā ní jī (Sai-aniki)?"

"I can't be a cop," Sai replied passionately, instinctively clutching at his jacket above the heart," if I'm afraid of a mad killer. I don't know what the killer's motives are, but he seems to kill so easily."

"…" The blonde looked away, guilt radiating in heavy waves to which Sai feigned ignorance.

"Say… Rather than you worrying about other people, why don't you worry about yourself, Do Leong?"

That caught the blonde's attention.

"Didn't I tell you, my name is Tony Lin! Tony Lin!"

"What's the problem with calling you by your original name? And I'm not Sai, but Nishi."

Playful banter aside, 'Nishi' moved to a more serious topic.

"I think you shouldn't be an informant. There're some very unsavory rumors about the company that you are hanging out with."

"…What can I do? I have to make a living."

"If you get caught again, next time I can't back you up!" Nishi hollered.

With a "hmph!" Do Leong spun on his heel to leave. "I know that! I'll be more careful next time."

"Man…" Nishi scoffed, reaching into his jacket. " Xīxuѐguī (Vampires)…"

Time seemed to stand still, Xiānggǎng de (Hong Kong's) noisy streets immobilizing, as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his wallet. Grasping a báisè hé zōngsè (white and brown) between his teeth, Nishi couldn't resist.

A photograph slipped from between the leather folds. Black hair, sharp against his tan jarhead uniform, Bible clutched tight. His unit stood and sat around him, expressions firm, frames rigid. So out of place…

'_Gēgē (Brother)…'_

Nishi couldn't dam the nostalgic memory nor prevent his forlorn expression at the reflection of his gēgē de (Brother's) words.

"_I have become military priest. I'm going off to sea soon. So, if…. I meet any mishap…"_

From underneath the first photo, Nishi pulled out another: he and his gēgē, together, laughing, ignorant to the blood spattered across the once-sheen surface.

"_I hope you will accept that fact."_

"…There is no such thing as Xīxuѐguī (Vampires)."

Desperate to rid himself of this guilt, this loss, Nishi sought to distract himself. To beget this 'lie' and reclaim reality.

"No matter how, it is always humans themselves killing their own kind." He snapped the wallet closed, only wishing he could do the same with these sanity-consuming emotions tearing at his soul. "If it is not them… then who else is to blame…?"

A portentous breeze teased his onyx locks, twining a curl of smoke from his cigarette.

Nishi may have stood in a crowded, over populated Xiānggǎng (Hong Kong), but he was so alone, his only company his own shadow and a hollow psyche echoing of bloodied memoirs.

It came on the wind; so soft and smooth it could even be mistaken as pure fancy, a recollection echoing the refinery of Victoria, the reverence of implied inferiority, a seclusion akin to no other being upon this earth.

Freshly rosined horsehair thrumming a tune in pianissimo, unlamented grief; vibrato, tears never to be shed; a twist of the wrist, the depthless fall into despair.

'_This timber is… shénme (what)?'_

Did no one else notice? Did no one else hear? This melody which struck such a melancholy chord, which seemed to be steeped in ever prevalent emotions one thought were too beyond despair to attain. How could they not chase after it, seeking the source? These lilting notes drifting as a cool breeze, soles stepping in beat, tapping out the rhythm of grief.

'_This peaceful sound absolutely doesn't fit this noisy city. Not only that. Somehow, it sounds kind of lonely…_'

He didn't know when he'd moved from that spot, for only moment ago, Nishi had seemed rooted there.

Shadow lagging behind, the throngs finally thinned from their nebulous gape.

The cellist may have sat in a crowded, overpopulated Xiānggǎng, but he was so alone, his only companion his own shadow and a hollow psyche echoing of bloodied memoirs.

Perched atop a brick retaining wall, there he sat—the source of this _addolorato_ (music term meaning "sorrowful") tune.

Onyx locks twining in the breeze, the cellist sensed his onlooker, heavy lids rising to gaze upon this mortal who dare impede on his solitude. The face of a dead man, pale as his ghost, composer to a tune only the soul can conjure.

'…_He looks like….'_

A photograph branded beneath Nishi's eyelids with those onyx locks waving loosely in his eyes, hand tightly clutching a Bible, which could be so synonymously overlaid. Instead of worn strings, yellowed pages; a minor haircut; lighten the expression a bit to curve those pale lips in a plaintive grin.

His breathe was stolen with that one look—from those eyes empty as space, grayscaled with hardship.

So alike, a ghost as tepid as the cigarette which lie lost some time back, probably trampled by the ever late city-goers.

The high pitched _pi~!_ of a cell phone pierced the stillness, shattering the illusion.

"…..!"

Out of nothing other than habit, Nishi whipped around, flipping out his phone.

"Is this Nishi? It's me," a voice on the other end of the line crackled.

"Chief?" What could the Chief want?

"Where are you now? Hurry and come back to headquarters."

"Is there any progress in the case‽"

For some reason, this was the first conclusion that popped into Nishi's head. An echo of lonesome cello notes drifted through his mind alongside blood-spattered photographs, but it was a fleeting thought which he quickly dismissed as frivolous whimsy.

"…No. The bureau chief has something to talk to you about regarding the case. Just be back soon."

The Chief didn't await an answer, hanging up right then and there.

A scooter zoomed by, and it was then Nishi realized he was once more a citizen of this overpopulated metropolis, people surrounding him every which way he dared glance.

Had all that really occurred in the span of but a few seconds? Could've been an eternity for all he knew—time had seemed to stand still.

"….?"

That cellist!

"…Gone." Without a trace, at that.

Had he not been there but seconds ago, or had the whole thing been but a fleeting whimsy, as well?

…

Hazy sky, striped with formless white-brown puffs dotting the smoggy-blue backdrop.

Nishi clomped up the steps of his district station, mind adrift.

'_Why in the world… All of a sudden?'_

As he ascended the peak, voices echoing down the corridor caught his attention, along with an unfamiliar face: blonde hair slicked back professionally; thin framed glasses which gave off a sharp, cold aura; a severe black suit, tie perfectly centered, each button with a polished sheen like his shoes.

"And, so, I'm leaving."

The sharply suited blonde left, a suspicious case in hand.

Something was most definitely off…

'_Nà shì shuí (Who is that)?'_

No use worrying about it now; the guy had already left. Yet Nishi couldn't shake off this lingering premonition.

"It's Nishi. Duìbùqǐ (Excuse me)," he announced with a light knock.

At the swing of the door, Nishi was welcomed to the sight of the bureau chief. The aging man stood before the window, hands clasped behind his back. He had obviously been awaiting Nishi's arrival.

"—Ah, Nishi-kūn. Sorry for suddenly calling you here."

The bureau chief's behavior seemed a bit suspicious. A slight twist to glance at Nishi was his only acknowledgement as he remained facing the window.

"It's nothing. …But, why is even the bureau chief here…?"

The Chief stood stiff beside Nishi, teeth and fists clenched as he worked not to look his subordinate in the eye.

Something was definitely off…

"Ah, it's nothing big. It's just that, the case you're investigating—"

Nishi felt his gut clench.

"—where the victims died from blood loss…"

A small smile seemed to twitch at the bureau chief's vile lips.

"It's been decided that we'll cease any further investigations."

The source of this unsettlement, that pervasive unease he's been afflicted with since that cryptic phone call. This was it. This was all it.

Rage seethed.

"_Shénme _(What)…_‽_"

The bureau chief continued as though Nishi hadn't spoken a word: "From now on, a group of specialists from an international organization will take hold of the investigation. I hope that you will convey this message to everyone as the person in charge for this case."

Tell the other officers‽ This was real, this was happening. His case was being stolen, and that murderer would be free to kill again with no consequence for their actions. That woman would forever remain without justice.

All Nishi could do was protest, even though he knew it was futile. "You can't do this! This is certainly not a joke—up 'til now we have put all kinds of effort in it!"

"Nishi…" the Chief called softly to his subordinate, hoping to quell the fury he knew all too well to be raging under Nishi's skin by explaining the bureau chief's reasoning. "We have already been busy since before the Independence Day. There is no need to waste any more time on unnecessary staff. Cease the investigation immediately."

And the innocent would suffer as a result?

"But…"

A hand on his shoulder brought Nishi's rebuttal to a halt. A solid expression donned the Chief's face. Withheld grievances of his own held his lips tight and his voice came out gruff. "It's useless, Nishi. The decision has been made." Now it was rage tugging his mouth down in a begrudged sneer. "Just now, they have already taken away all the data about this case."

Blonde hair and a prim black suit came to mind_. '…It's that guy!'_

"When this territory is returned to Zhōngguó Nèidì de (Mainland China's) rule, we're going to need a lot of resources." The bureau chief's voice was slicked green. "You better learn to adapt to the new way of things, or it will be hard for you to continue living." A chuckle could almost be discerned, every word mustard gas tainting the atmosphere.

"…How unfortunate. I'm not too good with things like that."

Disregarding the proper rules of etiquette towards his superiors, Nishi spun around on his heal, stalking out of the office with the Chief's echoing cries:_ "Hey… Sai!"_

…

Nishi burst through the station doors with a _bang!_, pissed beyond belief.

'_That greedy, old hag! So easily bribed…!_'

His teeth ground together, fists clenched so tight it felt blood could almost be drawn. All he could see was hóngsè hé hēisè (red and black).

Red like the fire burning in his veins. Red like blood spilt and to be further drained. Red like the dark liquid spattering his memoirs, his gēgē de (brother's) memory.

Black like night, deep and still. Black like an innocent woman's locks whose blood was so mercilessly spilt; like his gēgē de (brother's). Black like the blonde man who stole his case file, with his pale white skin and prissy suitcase climbing into his Mercedes Benz.

'_Gāi_ (Over there)_!_'

Before the delegate could climb in, Nishi snapped a rough, "_Hey, hold it right there!_"

Surprised at the brazen call, the man turned to face the enraged cop. "Shénme (What)?" He turned to face Nishi, scorn pulling his eyebrows and lips down into a condescending glare.

Now—finally faced with the one to blame, the one who dared steal his case and prevent justice from being wrought, the one who so promptly pulled the rug out from under his dignity—Nishi realized what he was doing. This man in his prim black suit, finely tailored without a stitch out of place, stood before him, daunting with his rank and power. He whom had so easily bought out the bureau chief's loyalty and walked with such swagger and confidence, shoulders firm with withheld strength. The man was undoubtedly intimidating. It felt like he was looking down on Nishi with just that one glance and sneering "_Shénme _(What)?"

It was too late to turn back, though.

"It's you! You're the guy that took over the case of the victims with the blood loss!" He stalked forward, anger simmering as he struggled to keep from punching the bastard. "I don't care what international organization you are from. Snatching away another person's case—how unreasonable of you!"

His every action only served to piss Nishi off more. From how he looked away with a slight frown, as though the officer's very presence gave him a headache, to how he pushed his thin-framed glasses up into place with such grace and ease, so smooth and dripping with poise. And then how he _addressed_ Nishi's rage, as though the latter were a bug squabbling on the sidewalk beneath his feet. So lowly, so inferior, so pointless were his protests and grievances. Like just speaking to him was annoying and a waste of his breath.

"Ah… So you're the person in charge whom the bureau chief mentioned before? I forgot to introduce myself, Nishi Xiānshēng (Mister Nishi). My name is Isaac. From now on, we shall take over all rights to the investigation of this case. This has nothing to do with you guys."

"…!"

That bastard spoke so prim and polite. It felt like he was speaking to a child, humoring their fleeting distress which was of absolutely no depth or value; just a couple crocodile tears and some empty pleas to indulge because they knew no better.

It made Nishi's blood boil over. Caution thrown to the wind, temper reigning free, he cried with vehement indignation, "'_Nothing to do with us_'! There's already a person who's dead in the district we are in charge of! How can it be none of our business!" It wasn't even a question.

Not even a chip at Isaac's cold exterior. Just a prudish glance and empty words: "I'm sorry, but this case is not one that you guys can deal with. —So far, you guys have not even gotten as much as a strand of evidence, right?"

"…!" To throw something like that right in his face—The audacity! And the implications undertoning his words—"_Are you telling us to just pretend that nothing had happened‽?_" Such an inconceivable command. It _happened,_ and that woman's corpse lay in the morgue beneath the station true as day. It _happened,_ and there was a mad killer on the loose with three lives under his belt.

"That is what is called being sensible," Isaac replied without missing a beat, "if you don't want to end up dead."

Why did this prissy, black suited young man's words strike such a chord in Nishi's boiling blood which seemed to make it run cold? He spoke was such seriousness, as though it was something too deadly to be doubted, too obvious to have even been spoken of.

"There are certain things in this world that are best left unknown. This is a fact."

Nishi glared loathingly after Isaac's Mercedes Benz, its departure kicking up a miniature storm of wind and grit to muss his hair.

"…"

Yet, all he could do was stare after that luxury automobile with fists and teeth clenched, a cold sweat still tainting his skin, confusion radiating in livid waves.

…

On the outskirts of Xiānggǎng laid a collection of ancient structures, extrinsic, yet so intrinsic with the modern metropolis. The black-gabled roofs sprawled across the valuable tract, walls towering and fine, embellished with jade, and gold dragons. Pasted on one ancient column was a script written of archaic charms to ward off demons, curses, ill-will, and bad luck. An ancient, sprawling mini-city adjacent to the epitome of modern society so entwined with the dead regime of emperors and folklore, to which one particular door creaked open. A shaggy blonde head peeked through, unbefitting this location of onyx-locked finesse.

"…"

Do Leong stepped through the doorway nervously, attempting to remain silent and sneak into the compound unnoticed. To no avail.

"Ní hǎo, Gēgē (Hi, Brother)," a voice called cheerfully from within, steps graceful and still as a cat's. A sly grin donned the Chinese man's face, firm-faced bodyguards manning him on either side. His silk cheongsam swayed with a light _swish_ as he came to a halt before a frightened Do Leong. "How are… the police doing?" That smile, so deceptively bright, hid the young man's true thoughts as he grinned at the blonde.

With a nervous sweat and thoughtful pause in which he anxiously cleared his throat, Do Leong gave a drawn out, "…Ah, yes." With another deep breath, he gathered his wits about him, returning with a wary but less timid elaboration of, "Seems that they haven't figured it out…" No matter how much he'd warned them.

An eerie wind swept through the compound, sliding orchid leaves across the path.

"Really, it must be exhausting for you to do this." Such a dark undertone crept into the cheongsam-garbed young man's voice, echoing a frightening premonition. His words were sympathetic, but the man's very aura seemed to say otherwise. "From now on, I'm counting on you." He grasped Do Leong's chin, forcing the boy to look him in the eye, despite his fright. "So, the plan is still on. We can't afford to fail in the next step."

A sly smile, emanating a foul mustard gas, tugged at the young man's lips, his eyes glowing a feverish madness.

…

_Jiǔlóng (Kowloon)_

The "Lawless" Jiǔlóng, as some called it, with rust trailing in cascades of hóngsè hé zōngsè (red and brown) down its walls like dried blood, and sickly green and white exterior walls. Wires strung across loosely, as though it were them holding the massive collection of structures, which so seemed to be a single unit, together, useless antennas specking the multi-storied rooftops; the metal jungle of the slums. Slated for demolition, this ghetto which once housed tens of thousands, wrought with drug abuse and gang wars, this hovel of prostitution and ill-fortune which had seen so much bloodshed and pervaded even though its squalid residents have since moved on to a new home of ill-repute, was not yet prepared to die, clinging to life by claiming that of others, just like in its glory days.

Footsteps echoed down its halls, a shadow creeping along the walls, oddly reminiscent of when children would scamper through the tightly packed corridors, claustrophobic through and through, littered with trash and needles, with previously live wires hanging freely from the pipes and leaking insulation. The sound was quiet, and yet so loud. Now the epitome of a ghost town—a massive, modern era ghost town which stood like a concrete mountain, a metal forest, technologically booming Xiānggǎng (Hong Kong) in plain view were one to stand atop the tallest structure in the bunch—Nishi's footsteps were but a pinprick to the ever pervasive white noise which had once plagued the walled city; but in the stillness, the utter silence, it was too loud and echoed so perversely off the concrete and metal. He came upon his target, after much winding through the labyrinth of corridors and stairwells: a stone courtyard which appeared so odd, boxed in by apartment buildings packed so tightly together no gap could be discerned between their façades, where a single rectangle of pollution-distorted sky could be seen, framed by the rooftops like a window to a world entirely unattainable.

How anyone had ever stood living here, Nishi would never understand. Absolute desperation, inevitable despondency must've been the Black Death which drove these people to collect in such fierce concentration in such a hopeless entrapment. Had that woman been here for that reason, caught in a tsunami of desolation?

He now stood over a chalk outline, bloodstains still visible, spattered across in a gruesome array. His shadow was dark against the white chalk; so similar to the dried blood.

"How can I give up… so easily…?" he asked himself, self-loathing tangible.

If he gave up, that woman and the other two victims would never receive the respite of justice. They'd just be another cold case added to this slum's already bulging file. How many murders had there been here? Dozens?—no, no, far more than that. Hundreds, perhaps? Such a daunting number. It felt… _wrong_ to leave this place with another death to its name. Wasn't it Nishi's duty to send this place off without another breath in its stifling grip? Solve the case, return what had been spiritually lost, allow—if only—these last three spirits to rest in peace, their murderer brought to justice in a court of law to suffer for his sins in a penitentiary with all the other sickos.

The click of his flashlight was another harsh sound in the stillness of night. The dead of night, no stars visible, only a silver disk to alight the walled city in a surreal glow.

"If only there is at least some evidence…"

Sifting some broken slabs of concrete jutting from the once smooth surface, a crimson glow caught the officer's eye. "Huh? …This is… as dark red as blood….?"

So absorbed was he in this oddly colored crystal which looked so much like a blood-red ruby and was yet far too feeble, feeling as though it would crumble to dust should one squeeze too hard, that Nishi was entirely unaware of the shadow creeping up on him with demonic horns and a goblin grin. All too late did he give notice to the hairs standing on the back of his neck.

At the monster's strike, blood flew in a crystalline arc through the air, black in the night like Nishi's onyx locks. He was thrown back, skidding across the rough stone, but still recovering quick enough to gaze through the stinging in his left arm at his demon-assassin.

"_Shénme _(What)_!_"

There it stood, the epitome of inhuman. Claws a foot long curled in loose fists as it rose so tall in the open corridor, pale moonlight a backlight to silhouette the monster's gruesome frame. Not even an idiot could mistake this goblin for a mortal, for a human, as its eyes glowed a fetid red—red as the blood which dripped from its claws, from Nishi's arm, which had dried black on the cracked slabs. The creature raised a claw to its horse-like head, tongue flicking from between brazenly carnivorous canines to lick off the officer's sweet, sweet blood—still warm on its freezing leathery flesh. A scent so sweet, metallic with life and fervor. Life it wished nothing more than to steal as its own, forever bound to this slum's consuming ways.

Abhorred, it finally clicked in Nishi's brain that this was happening and that this goblin fully intended to kill him. It was blatantly clear in those orbs of bloodlust, insanity swirling. Ignoring the pain splicing up his arm, he drew his weapon.

Five instantaneous shots rang out, a small spiral of smoke swirling from each bullet wound on the monster's leathery hide. One by one, the bullets slipped from singed flesh to drop to the ground with a metallic ring. Metallic—like the sweet scent of his blood flowing from warm flesh to cold concrete. Such a waste… It licked its lips, saliva dripping with crushed metal in eerie _plip_s.

'_Shénme _(What)_…. What the hell is this thing?_'

Nishi simply couldn't believe his eyes. Four shots to the heart, one to the forehead. His accuracy was deadly, yet the creature was entirely undeterred. If anything, all he'd accomplished was further pissing it off. An unshakable, instinctive fear gripped his body stiff like Death's boney fingers. So cold, even as sweat dripped off his chin.

Quiet footsteps, almost indiscernible through the heavy thumping in the officer's ears. Black-clad, like an Angel of Death, a shadow crept across the concrete. With a shriek, the goblin slowly turned its monstrous head to sight its latest opponent. No, this was not an opponent. The fear coursing through its veins said as much, every instinct screaming at it to run, to escape. It shivered in terror, eyes fading to a golden hue as bloodlust faded from its conscious mind. To survive, it knew it needed that rich red liquid so enticing plipping on the ground by that human, but a more immediate knowledge pushed it to act otherwise.

"…KA…KIIIIIIIII~!"

With a flap and a gust, it took off. To escape.

To no avail.

In hot pursuit, the source of its fear took a leap, pinballing off the crumbling walls, high above Nishi and the chalk outline. White wings against silhouetted black. They were framed by the moon's pale silver disk, a lurid red staining the grayscale scene. The source of the goblin's fear: a young man in black, white trench coat flapping like wings of his own, with wavy onyx locks held back in a blue ribbon, who so effortlessly sliced the monster with his bare hands, a great shriek echoing through the still night; the man's face was empty, even as he gazed unblinkingly into the dying creature's panicked golden eyes, blood pouring from the gaping wound bisecting its left wing as flaps of skin webbed loosely between, like the wires holding Jiǔlóng together—to no avail, for it was slated for demotion, just like this goblin of death.

It was all Nishi could do to stare in amazement at the scene.

Letting out a great cry, booming and deep like thunder, they swooped out of sight, a trail of crystalline red arcing beneath to splatter grotesquely atop the already blood-spattered stone.

Holding his arm tight to staunch the bleeding, Nishi promptly chased after.

His path, however, was time-consuming, no matter how quick his feet carried him. Breath short, he exited the ghost town, a mountain of blood and darkness behind him, to spot the man standing alone in an empty lot, tattered chain link fence his proverbial cage.

Blood dripped from his clenched knuckles as Nishi faced the mysterious being which had so easily slain that goblin.

"…That was… …"

On a breeze, the metallic scent drifted to the man, making him turn.

"Who the heck… are you…"

The man turned to face Nishi fully. His eyes were heavy, the crimson glow inciting an unsettled fear to settle deep in Nishi's belly. Countenance so empty, so cold, eyes fiery with bloodlust of his own. The crimson was such a stark contrast to the man's pale skin and onyx locks—it stood out, lurid on a grayscale background.

Just as quickly as the moment had begun, however, it ended, as the man collapsed to his knees with a heavy _thump!_ in the grass.

Bewildered, Nishi held him in his arms. "…Eh… Wait…"

The young man uttered the most confusing thing that could've possible escaped his pale lips—" I'm hungry…"—before promptly falling into a deep slumber.

'_What in the world… just happened?_'

* * *

**A/N**  
Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Oh, come on *smiles sweetly*. Review, please~!


	2. Èr Wǎn

**A/N  
**Just a notation: I'm still young and evolving; as a result, so is my writing style, as my wonderful readers who've been, well, reading since the start of _Time of Dying_ already know. This being a forewarning, I'm inputting some new structures to my style. From now on, I'm trying to show something in writing (ex: an email) with the Japanese punctuation for speech (「、」), and a now obsolete piece of English punctuation (‽) because FF's getting rid of my exclamation-point-question-mark exclamations -_-  
*thoughtful* I'm also considering going more mainstream-style with sound effects by italicizing them, instead of quoting (i.e. from "swish" to _swish_), so that'll show up, too

Also, last chappy I wrote Nishi's gangsta friend's name as "Douryon". Ah… my bad ^^' That's the Japanese spelling, and I should've done the Chinese "Do Leong", so that's how I'll be writing his name hence forth, by the way. And Nishi's… lab-guy-friend's name'll be written "Zhao" (online spelling = Zau, don't remember Dark Horse publication spelling)

* * *

**Xuѐ Jiā: Huá Chéng Zhī Yè  
**_Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to..._

_Èr Wǎn (Two Night)_

_A lonely traveler under the moonlight. Searching for the whereabouts of his lost master. In Jiǔlóng Chéng_ (Kowloon City)_ where there is no signs of human life, in the deep of the night, only the sound of his cello exists…_

Xiānggǎng (Hong Kong). One of the world's largest economies, booming even when others suffer in a recession. Sparkling glass and radical steel structures arc into the sky, threatening to pierce the murky blue heavens with their lightning rod tips. An overwhelming populace crammed onto this island with their minute living quarters and simple lifestyles, Nishi peered out the window of his downtown apartment to spy the narrow alleyway, buildings so tightly packed, it seemed as though he could reach out the window and his fingertips would graze the adjacent structure.

Instead, however, the officer was occupied rereading a note of which he'd read what must be nearing thousands of times. He'd long since memorized the scribbles, the photo, the grief. Even so, he found himself reviewing the paper scrap once more.

「_Knowing that his remnants have been delivered safely into the hands of his family, I feel relieved as a person who had gone through a lot with him on the battlefield._

_But, with regards to your questions about how he died…. Actually, there are a lot of unanswered questions about his cause of death._

_His body had wounds that looked like he was bitten by a monster._

_Furthermore, he had lost quite a lot of blood._」

Nishi held in his hand that same photo of his gēgē (brother) sitting with his unit, stern-faced David by his side. Forevermore was that smile pasted on his gēgē de (brother's) countenance. It was eerie, that smile. He sat there smiling, ready to ship off to the Gulf to fight in others' war, totally unaware that he was destined to death alongside the rest of his unit, David being the only survivor. What had happened? How could his gēgē sit there so calm, _smiling_ when he was a ghost‽ Bible clutched so assuredly in his left hand, as though confident everything was to work out for the best. But it hadn't been for the best! Nishi's gēgē had been killed—_murdered_ on that mission. He hadn't even been armed, being nothing more than a simple military chaplain. The blood spattered across the back of the photograph was such an atrocious reminder of this fact, making it ever unfeasible for Nishi to convince himself that his gēgē smiled because he was still happy and fine, just delayed on the flight back from his mission.

_Xuè _(Blood)_._

Those three victims at Jiǔlóng (Kowloon) had died of blood loss.

_Xuè _(Blood)_._

The arc of crimson from that mysterious man's slash so many stories overhead, so easily splicing the creature into a piteously gruesome death, face so cold and apathetic, as though he were far, far away.

Speaking of which…

Nishi's eyes shifted to gaze at the same man from that night. There the latter lay, dead to the world.

'_I didn't think much at that time and just brought him home, but… What exactly is this guy? Is he human? Or…_'

It was then that Nishi spied the bandages swathing the mysterious man's right hand.

'_…Bandages?_'

Such an unsettling discovery. Someone who had so easily slaughtered something so mighty, frightening, merciless, and brutal… was injured? Human—inhuman. A human would be in pieces. A monster would be scot-free.

'_Is he injured … are there other wounds …_'

"Nh…" The man let off a low unconscious moan as Nishi unzipped his coat, exposing pale flesh to the cool room.

He was ostensibly pale, rail-thin. How could someone so lanky tear that creature apart with their bare hands?

_Thump-thump_.

Nishi's heart raced, although he didn't know why.

'_Zhège_ (This)_ … What the hell was I thinking…?_'

He quickly pulled the blanket back over the man.

Next caught his eye was that coffin-like case, leaning absently against the edge of the bed.

'_—This cello case must be his; it was found near the scene, and I brought it back just in case…_'

So clearly he recalled the haunting melody strung from that cleanly polished instrument, those spindly fingers.

'_Let me have a look at it, maybe it'll give a clue—_' With a heavy _thump!_ and a light _creak_, Nishi managed to slide the massive case onto the floor, opening it to reveal… "…Yí (Huh)? A katana…?"

Yet a katana there was! Tucked safe and sound in a secret compartment built into the lining of the case. Amid soft blue velvet and polished decorative steal plating, the obsidian-smooth sheath shone in the sunlight, gold hilt-guard sparkling more apparently, more _riche_. The hēisè- hé lánsè- (black and blue) lined hilt looked worn and used, yet not a single thread stuck out of place as though, with great care, someone had moved to keep this glorious weapon in its most pristine state. It was also odd to find such a deadly saber resting right alongside the elegant cello which lay in its velvet casing below. Blood and beauty hand-in-hand.

Couldn't help but move to remove the sheathed blade, to see if the silver metal was coated in blood—he didn't know why, but blood simply came to mind.

"Don't touch it!"

The voice was deep and abrupt.

He spun around to face the man in black who'd sat up so suddenly his long hair still swayed from the motion, receiving a hard glare like a parent to a misbehaving child.

Déjà vu.

Nishi couldn't repress a grimace.

"…. Is this … yours—?"

"No, it belongs to Master." An answer swift as the wind, sharp as a slap to the face. His tone was less severe, though, as if the man had realized he'd gone over the line with that perturbing cry.

Another sudden move, the young man snatched his trench coat from the end of the bed, sliding it on with practiced efficiently, and grabbing the cello case in the same motion as he bypassed an outraged Nishi.

"Hey, hey! Wait! I have some questions to ask you!"

But his cries were ignored as the door swung open, the man leaving without a second glance back even as he labored with each breath.

Nishi refused to subside.

"Who the hell are you? It seems that you are pursuing those strange monsters; is it because you know something about them‽ How is it—hey!"

"Hmph." The man leaned against the wall, gate unsteady as he wobbled. It was then that Nishi finally noticed the labored breathing.

"Say… where the heck to you think you are going swaying like that?" Panic struck as the man ignored his own weakness, continuing down the hall. "Don't tell me you are going to Jiǔlóng (Kowloon) in your condition‽ Hey!"

'_The same thing… has happened before. —Right…!_'

The man turned to give Nishi a scathing glare, greatly annoyed at his persistence and resistance. Only… that wasn't whom Nishi saw. Another face overlaid—of a sad, hopeful smile, stark-night locks swaying as he turned to give what would be his last look at his gēgē (brother)…

_Thump-thump._

Not again!

Rash, thoughtless—!

"I said…" Nishi huffed, the man caught in his strong embrace, "wait and listen to me!"

Soaring through the air, the young man slammed down onto Nishi's bed, suppressing a cry at the unexpectedly rough treatment.

"_Listen carefully‼ You said that you were hungry, then fainted! Like hell will you walk out of here swaying like that! I'll prepare something for you to eat, so now, sit there and wait obediently!_"

An astounded face stared back.

…

"Here."

Nishi placed the dish before his… unexpected guest, who in turn stared down at the plate in mild annoyance. The man sitting on the bed, TV-tray his dining table, Nishi leaned against the adjacent window sill.

'_Without thinking about it, I stopped him from leaving, but what exactly am I doing….._'

Stare, stare, stare—all he did was stare at the food, as though confused as to why Nishi had placed it before him.

'_He chopped that monster apart so easily. That means he might be a bigger problem than that monster, but—_'

His thoughts were cut off as the man scooped up some of the white rice. No hesitation, he ate it.

'_…Yí _(Huh)_?_'

He moved to take another bite!

There was absolute indifference in his features, as though he'd given up on even considering a way to get out of this… not that there was _really_ that much to "get out of", but still. It was like he'd decided the only way he could escape Nishi's persistence was by simply being a good little drone and doing as he was told. Then he'd be free to do as he pleased.

It was still odd, though.

'_Eating the food without being wary at all. I had thought that he would be more cautious… —Ah, well. He doesn't seem like a bad guy…_'

No sense pestering him when he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Well…

"You said that… the sword belongs to your master." Instantly, the man dropped the indifferent façade, turning starkly defensive. But Nishi's curiosity was genuine. "Who is your master? Because it seems that you are working on your own."

Truthfully, he wasn't really expecting an answer, considering how the guy had only spoken, like, two sentences.

Quiet, forlorn: "….I don't know. Master went off somewhere else. That's why I'm now searching."

Shock painted Nishi's every pore. '_This guy…_'

The man's brows were furrowed with disquiet, loneliness, self-disappointment. He looked genuinely lost and sad—odd to see on someone whose face had betrayed nothing other than indifference or wariness.

It was a familiar expression.

A smile played at Nishi's lips. "I see… There is an important person in your life, too."

—_A crimson splash painted the air—_

The man turned to face Nishi as if with new eyes. He spied the bandages swathing the officer's left arm, loose and unwinding… except it wasn't as much the bandages as what lay beneath them which caught his attention…

Nishi caught his gaze. "Yí (Huh)?" Ah, the bandages. Apparently they'd unwound when he wasn't looking. Might as well get some fresh ones, he concluded, unwinding the medical cloth. "A, zhège (Ah, this)… well, it's bleeding, but it's not bad enough to require stitches."

Without warning, a hand caught his wrist like an iron shackle.

"Yí (Huh)?"

It was the man, tongue lapping up the copper-scented lifeblood, eyes almost seeming to glow eerily of the same crimson shade. Droplets dripped off his chin as he concentrated on nothing other than the cut on Nishi's arm… and how delicious it was in his parched throat.

_Thump-thump!_

"—‼‽"

He couldn't believe his eyes—!

"—Uh… _Uwa_‼"

Nishi ripped his arm away with a cry. Those crimson-flecked orbs gazed at him like a lion to a gazelle, already locked tight in its jaws, as he licked the blood pasted to his lips.

This was an entirely different person from the forlorn young man who'd been in that body but a moment ago.

This was someone who could easily tear a monster to shreds with his bare hands.

'_Shénme_ (What)_… What the hell just happened‽_'

Just like before, the _piiii!_ of his phone interrupted the unbelievable moment, throwing the stunned officer back into reality.

"Ay… Ah! Nín hǎo (formal "Hello")‽"

"It's me~,"an overly-cheerful voice sang on the other end. "There're results out for the tests you asked me to run."

"Zhao, is that you?"

"Well, the results are pretty surprising—You're not on duty tonight, right? Come straight to my place and see for yourself. See you!"

Just as suddenly as he'd called, Zhao hung up without allowing Nishi to get a single significant word in… like usual. So Zhao.

Except, something other than his annoyance at Zhao persisted.

'_…This is making me anxious…_' Forebodingly, warily, he couldn't resist taking a glance back at the man, recollections of that horrifically confusing moment flashing across his psyche in warning. '_What exactly… was that—_'

Something he hadn't expected to see, most certainly, awaited his gaze.

'_… Shénme_ (What)_…? He's acting like nothing happened at all._'

This was just getting unsettling. There the guy sat, back to the emotionless mask, seeming entirely unaware of the world around him.

Where had the… …from earlier gone?

'_I really don't get this guy._'

Nishi pulled on his jacket. "Hey, I'm going out now, and will be back very quickly…"

'_But…_'

The man's eyes followed Nishi's progress towards the door with an unsettling… apathy? No, there was something there, something indecipherable.

"You'll just stay here."

'_…why am I still feeling so worried?_'

…

Hearts flouncing about, _nyaa_s bouncing off the walls like lovey-dovey bullets, smiling, hands-clasped Zhao greeted Nishi with an inappropriately ecstatic, "Hi! Sai~. I haven't been seeing you lately and I feel so lonely." His words moved like a bullet train, so fast, almost impossible to catch.

"…"

Come on and give a guy a little mercy here! It was always so exhausting even so much as _thinking_ about Zhao. Nishi's shoulders were slumped already. Call off the fire department, there wasn't even hope 'cause he was already here. Maybe he should've pretended to be incapacitated, and forced the lab tech to state his findings over the phone…

"Sigh, since that blonde called Isaac took away our jobs, it's so empty over here. With this, you'll owe me a favor."

On and on! When did it end?

"You haven't changed at all, Zhao… And didn't I tell my name's Nishi, not Sai…"

He couldn't even protest more vehemently, it was too exhausting.

"Well, you have the blood of both flowing in you, so isn't it fine to call you the Xiānggǎng (Hong Kong) way? You're such a rigid and strange person."

Okay, now he was indignant! "I identify myself as Rìběn Rén (Japanese), that's why I don't care for it. —Anyway, what are the results?" Might as well get the torture over with…

Uncharacteristically serious, "Hey… I'll make it brief. The thing you picked up at the crime scene. It's a scab."

"—Ah‽_ What nonsense is that? Isn't it as hard as a piece of rock‽_"

Nishi did kind of have a tendency to yell at Zhao (every time they were in a room together), so it didn't dampen the tech's mood. He continued as though Nishi had never interrupted. "To be more accurate, it's something formed after part of the body fluid and skin had mixed and hardened." He held up a microscope-photo. "Enlarge the image and you will see what I mean… This is similar to human cells." The cell structures were unmistakable.

"….‽"

"I can't confirm it without doing a DNA test, but I'm pretty sure it's part of a human. … But for a human part, this is impossibly hard. Almost as if it's the scab of some monster."

Teeth clenched, Nishi glowered at how right Zhao unintentionally was in his second, more offhanded assumption. "…"

'_Monster… I wonder if it's… a part of _that thing_?_'

Do Leong's words echoed.

"_What if they really are Xīxuѐguī _(vampire)_‽ Going in might get you killed!_"

Do Leong—what were the odds of him being so sure the killer was a monster—and being right‽ He knew something…

"Right, Do Leong, that guy…"

"You mean Do Leong, the young informant?" Zhao asked absently while pouring himself a cup of coffee (was this where he got all that annoying energy?).

"Aaah…" This stuff wasn't exactly rational.

"He's mixed up with the Huang family, right? I've heard some bad rumors? Something about the Huang family amassing funds for research into drugs for everlasting life… Since Jiǔlóng (Kowloon) collapsed into ruins, it seems that selling marijuana is not enough for the mafia, and they have to dabble in such strange stuff, too…"

He held out a cup to Nishi. "Coffee's ready."

But Nishi wasn't paying attention, dialing quick as he could on his cell. His worried expression seemed to break through Zhao's thick head. "What the matter?"

"Nothing. Hopefully I'm just being too suspicious…"

…

Deep within an ancient compound lay a bed with hand-carved flowers and vines and birds on its bamboo posts. Sheer silk enwrapped the high class chamber within with its goose feather pillows and downed comforter. The ceiling was a fine brocade of Victorian tiles and painted support pillars.

Amid all this refinement, a cell phone's high pitched ring was out of place.

Do Leong absently checked the caller ID, his eyes heavy from disturbed sleep.

「SAI」 it read.

Panic struck as he shoved the device under his pillow.

"~Oh. Not answering the phone?" a smirking voice commented snidely, cheongsam hanging open loosely on his chest.

"It's no one important, Huang-shīfu (Master Huang)," the blonde boy stammered nervously.

"Huang-shīfu" gazed at him with a knowing smile and cruel eyes.

He rose, that sly smirk still apparent, as he buttoned his cheongsam's simple frog buttons up to the traditional Mandarin collar.

"Do Leong. Do you… dare to drink this?"

Château Duel in hand, the green glass sparkling in the dim light, Huang gave his blonde friend the most sadistic expression humanly possible. He held the bottle towards a man held fast within a steel cage. A circle of painted characters encircled his prison, ancient charms written in black ink, seals hanging from the ceiling. The man hung by his wrists, chained to the cage, cage chained to the ceiling, his ribs jutting like a Holocaust victim, head hanging. Researchers and bodyguards stood around with sharp gazes, carefully observing the trapped man with clipboards and pens in hand.

Do Leong saw none other than that wretched bottle, instantly foreboding the caged man's fate with a mortified shudder.

"The drug… Drug…!" the man moaned. An addict through and through, lusting for his crutch with the desperation of a drowning man to dry land.

"What a pity," Huang sang, his voice entirely devoid of said pity as he began to pour the red liquid into that needy mouth. "Just one sip, and you can have a superb dream." The elixir was red like blood.

—_Screaming devoid of hope, existing only to show how they shan't for much longer—_

Huang smiled.

…

Back to modern society, Nishi worriedly dialed and redialed and dialed again the same number on his cell. "… Damn… Do Leong's not answering the phone…"

"_I don't know what happened, but I'll be depending on you. You're not the only one that's vexed by this matter,_" he recalled Zhao warning earlier.

'_I understand his feelings, but how can I explain about _that thing_? Let alone… about that guy…_' He was antsy just thinking about it, blood spattering across his psyche.

The prideful footsteps of polished black dress shoes interrupted Nishi's eulogy.

"Sai-xiānshēng (Mister Sai), it seems that you have not been listening to my advice."

"…Isaac!" Nishi was immediately defensive, not even snapping about being called Sai yet again today.

"You should have seen them at Jiǔlóng Chéng (Kowloon City). '_Those things_'."

—Shénme (What)‽ How could he have—

"—‼ Were you there at that time‽"

Without pause, cool and smooth as the bastard was, "Yes, for my investigation. … However, I am not planning to talk with you about your imprudent actions right now. What I want to ask you about is _him_, the one who was fighting with _them_."

"…!" Defensiveness doubled tenfold, and Nishi bit back a yell.

The mysterious man in black.

"At the plaza, I was sure that you had chased after him. What a pity that I lost you… I want information about _him_."

There was certainly something going on with that guy. First killing that monster with his bare hands, next… …and now Isaac? And Isaac seemed pretty unsurprised at the existence of such a monster, too. Plus, the man in black clearly knew how to kill it.

Were the two men related in some way?

"… Now that you know about it, what are you planning to do?" Nishi asked cautiously, trying to tamp down his outrage enough to get some information, at least. Isaac obviously knew _something_—he just had to get it outta him.

Stone-faced: "I'm not obliged to tell you."

Okay, that's it!

"Well, I'm not going to tell you, either! The investigating is already in your hands. How you want to do it is up to you!"

His retort was sharp and topped with a glare and a stiff stalk past Isaac.

An eerie wind swept by.

"You'd better be careful."

…? Isaac's manner was… different. For once, his tone wasn't condescending, but genuinely foreboding. _Warning_.

Just as abruptly, the prissy façade resurfaced. "He might be a more dangerous being than those things."

Nishi only glared in reproach, his rage thankfully suppressing the shiver that fought to run down his spine.

…

Late dusk. Earlier, the skies had been painted an eerie red-orange, but now the colors had dampened down to blue and purple; dark and depressing, but at least not red. The blue seemed to add to Nishi's mood as he climbed the steps up to his apartment, lost in thought.

'_…A dangerous being. Am I… doing something stupid….? Indeed, he might be something more frightening than _them_. But…_' So clearly could he picture the man with his back turned, blocking Nishi out, the background dotted with lurid blood spatters. He snapped his eyes shut, trying to erase the picture, instead moving to the photo of his brother and his unit, and how similar they—

'_…Never mind. He might already be gone by now. No matter how much they look alike, he is not my gēgē. I don't even know his name._'

His final decision ran through just as he opened the front door… '_Even if we never meet each other again, it can't be helped—_' …except he wasn't expecting the sight before him.

Nishi's eyes were wide as he took in the dark room, the man in black sitting in the shadows. Yet he was _there_! Sitting on the floor against Nishi's bed like it was the most natural thing to do (even though there was a chair right in from of him).

At first, expression so empty, body so relaxed, Nishi thought he was asleep.

That illusion was quickly dispelled when the man looked up.

"…Nǐ (You)... Wèishéme (Why)?

Why hadn't he left? Ample opportunity had been given—Nishi'd been gone for _hours_—and the man had even tried, and failed, to leave earlier. This would've been his chance, yet he'd stayed.

"Didn't you tell me to stay right here?"

Oooookaaaaay…?

The man seemed confused that Nishi was confused.

"…Aaah… yeah… I did say that—"

Now that he thought back, earlier, when the man had tried to leave, Nishi had just yelled at him and been ignored—'til he put his foot down and _ordered_ the guy to sit and eat. And then he'd "ordered" him to stay right here while he was out, and he'd stayed.

So he didn't like being yelled at—who did, other than Zhao (assumptions…)?—but was excellent at following orders. Well, that counted out being a soldier, who wouldn't have ignored the yelling, most likely.

What an odd person…

"… …Your name; I haven't asked for your name yet. My name is Nishi Tatsuyoshi. How about yours?"

"Haji."

…

Keys clicked and clacked quick as a sonata, Isaac's eyes focused on the computer screen as he typed up his report.

He paused, holding up an ancient photograph. It portrayed Haji and a black-haired girl garbed in traditional aristocratic Victorian garb, she in a poofy dress, he in a well-cut suit.

There was no doubt in Isaac's mind.

"I'm definitely right. He is… Haji—Saya's follower."

* * *

**A/N**  
This prob'ly confused you, but I didn't wanna give it away. The italisized sentences encompassed in dashes? Hm, it was a pretty random idea I'd _planned_ on incorporrating last chappy (and forgot to) about telling the dead brother's story based on correlations in the book, um, story. It won't go into specifics, instead describing his death and what was goin' on 'round him at the time. This's the beginning of the story, so those two little interruptions were the beginning of the Chiropteran attack on the brother and his unit  
Honestly, I'm a bit worries about the whole idea and whether or not it even makes sense... so I'd be quite grateful for feedback concerning this matter especially ^^

Also, sorry this chappy's so much shorter ^^'

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Review, please~!


	3. Sān Wǎn

**A/N**  
It was my 2011 New Year's Resolution to finish this story. We'll see if I can accomplish that in time...

I just got my computer back from the guys I sent to fix it. Being the assholes they are, they took twenty days to fix a _simple _problem and, in the process, managed to _break_ two other things *eye twitch*. I have to ship it back to Portland on Monday, so I'm rushing to finish my New Year's Resolution before then. Therefore, I apologize for the low-quality chapters. I'm a bit pressed for time. Of course, I wouldn't be having this problem if I'd gotten off my ass earlier in the year... *shrug* Minor details

* * *

**Xuè Jiā: Huá Chéng Zhī Yè**_**  
**__Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to..._

_Sān Wǎn (Three Night)_

_Searching for the person that's reflected only in his eyes…_

A voice echoed off the towering fortress that was Jiǔlóng Zhài Chéng (Kowloon Walled City), eerie amidst the resounding silence. The words spoken would cause any eavesdropper to shiver at the mentioning—even if they didn't truly understand what it was of which the man below spoke of. It was of creature more frightening than the blood spatters staining the concrete courtyard. It was of a creature whose sanity was as unsteady as the very existence of Jiǔlóng (Kowloon), teetering on the edge, slated for demolition.

"—Shì de (Yes), the interference from the local police has been stopped." Isaac's voice was entirely devoid of emotion as he conversed with an unknown party through his cellular telephone. Each word was pensive and official, lacking in passion. "We've found one of the target 'Chiropterans'. ... As planned, please dispatch the special unit for it. ... And also, on another note, the possibility of a person we need to secure appearing is very high, so just in case, please have reinforcements ready, too." At this next pause, something changed. Suddenly, Isaac wasn't entirely devoid of passion—but overflowing with it, the fuel a fire in his eyes as he spoke: "In the name of 'Isaac' and 'Red Shield', I guarantee that we'll definitely accomplish this mission. The destruction of Chiropterans has been our goal for a long, long time..."

Those final words echoed menacingly off the crumbling structure surround; they were an oath eternal, something which would either be fulfilled or destroyed entirely. It became obvious, then: Isaac's dedication to this cause. Perhaps he'd even throw away his life for it, whatever it was, without pause.

This was the message which carried on the breeze, swirling through the empty hallways. A declaration of war. Like Jiǔlóng (Kowloon), someone or something was bound to fall.

...

The door let out a screechy _creeak_ as Nishi opened it. He gave it no notice, however, for his determination was too set for distraction. Nothing could sway him. The hard set of his eyes, the fire burning within them, seemed to state as much.

This was the police armory. Racks of guns lay before him, shadowed eerily in the dim lighting, for Nishi had failed to flip the switch. Wasn't like he _wanted_ anyone to know he was in here, snatching up a rifle for unauthorized purposes.

He contemplated his mission as he grabbed a package of bullets and ensured the weapon was in working order.

'_This isn't the time to hesitate. There wouldn't be any results if I keep waiting without doing anything. Two days have passed since the latest blood loss murder case happened... For the past week, the criminal has been murdering someone every two days. The next victim should be found—tonight.'_

His memory was splashed with a vermillion arc.

—_A__ creature took off, a black blemish upon the moon's silver disk. Below; far, far below; droplets of a dark liquid plipped unto the gray stone, a splash of color in this dismal, grayscale realm. Black locks ruffled slightly at the creature's departure, skin dry and wrinkled despite the young woman's true age. She lay still as death, pale as the disk beaming dimly above, hand open beside her as though trying to reach for that moon; for that light._

—_Sifting some broken slabs of concrete jutting from the once smooth surface, a crimson glow caught the officer's eye. "Huh? …This is… as dark red as blood….?"_

— _There it stood, the epitome of inhuman. Claws a foot long curled in loose fists as it rose so tall in the open corridor, pale moonlight a backlight to silhouette the monster's gruesome frame. Not even an idiot could mistake this goblin for a mortal, for a human, as its eyes glowed a fetid red—red as the blood which dripped from its claws, from Nishi's arm, which had dried black on the cracked slabs. The creature raised a claw to its horse-like head, tongue flicking from between brazenly carnivorous canines to lick off the officer's sweet, sweet blood—still warm on its freezing leathery flesh. A scent so sweet, metallic with life and fervor. Life it wished nothing more than to steal as its own, forever bound to this slum's consuming ways._

All memories of that night that changed his life—when Nishi encountered a monster of hideous proportions and a total lack of sanity, mercilessly, thoughtlessly killing and killing and killing without discrimination. When he met Haji, a stranger who just as mercilessly killed that monster.

A night engrained with a crimson stain.

Zhao's words flickered through his mind, as well:

"_But, I'm pretty sure it's part of a human. ...But, for a human body, this is impossibly hard. Almost as if it's the scab of some monster._"

How right he was. If only Zhao had known the truth.

'_...If this was really left behind by that monster, then it explains everything—_' Doubt flared. Or perhaps it was simple anxiety. '_If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I would have thought it inconceivable—Even if it's said that is most likely part of a human, isn't it obviously more like a monster?_' Was it simple irony that Nishi thought these thoughts as he slipped his gun in his coat, hand brushing a bloodstained photograph?

An unsteadiness flashed through Nishi's mind.

'_... ... Monster?_'

「_Your brother's body had wounds that looked like he was attacked by a monster, and there were some bite marks. Furthermore, he had lost a lot of blood—_」

"... Could it be that his death at the Gulf was also..."

Nishi's epiphany was brusquely interrupted by two sets of footsteps intruding on his currently illegal abode.

"What are you preparing for at such a place?"

It was the Chief. He'd been caught!

"Sai—I do admire your high enthusiasm and drive in your work, but—but I never thought that you would be this rash. Have you forgotten that you need written permission to use any of the weapons of higher firepower than a normal pistol?"

The rat that tipped him off nervously cried in defense, "I'm sorry sir, we've been discovered. ... But I think this is too reckless, too! Are you planning to go after the criminal without any permission or warrant?"

Nishi didn't respond.

"You look as if you are going hunting," the chief acknowledged nervously. Something was obviously wrong.

"That's right, sir." The response was smug and dangerous.

Probably the only reason Nishi hadn't snapped about their calling him "Sai", at this point, was his dedication to this mysterious cause. Hunting? To those who knew the truth, it was obvious what he sought to kill. To these two unknowns, only misgivings loomed. They were obviously worried about his welfare, suddenly running off with a rifle and all.

"Sai..." the chief began.

Nishi finished his preparation. "... I can't give you the details right now, but I will definitely find the crucial clues to solve this case. —Even if I don't come back alive, I will try my very best to leave some evidence for you. When the time comes, please ask for backup from the military using that." It sounded like the final words of a dead man. "Fēicháng gǎnxiè (Thank you very much)." He gave a deep _ojigi_.

The chief wasn't exactly happy about this. Quietly, "You are always like this. Do you plan to take everything upon yourself?" Sadness, not disappointment, tainted the man's words.

"... Wǒ de dàoqiàn (My apologies)."

"..." The chief let off a deep sigh. "Seems like stopping you is useless now.

"I've got it." He gave Nishi a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Almost like they were friends. "Since you've already made up your mind, I'll pretend I didn't see a thing. —But..."

Nishi moved to leave.

"...don't act rashly. Make sure you come back alive."

With a final turn, Nishi gave a firm "Dāngrán kěyǐ (Of course)." His lack of smile, however, made it seem as though her were lying. His expression mimicked that of a soldier off to war.

...

As always, the atmosphere was clogged with pollution from the city. From humanity and their cars and scooters and planes and trucks and trains. Yet it offered an interesting tint to the sunset. Were this to be the time in an untainted paradise, the sky would be a soft blue-violet, cloud edges tinted pink by the setting sun. Here, however, it was offered a bloodier, darker hue. The clouds were splashed with vermillion petals, Lycoris blooms scattered across a backdrop of blue-gray-brown, an encroaching taint. Some might call it sickening, but the odd combination of colors lent a different atmosphere to the one currently observing them.

Nostalgic.

Unbeknownst to any but him, they reminded of a time when the water and sky were blue, the beach was brown, and the most beautiful eyes in the world were red. Of course, these thoughts were revealed to none but himself, and even he failed to acknowledge these reasons behind his admiration of the current state of the sunset before him. It was too painful.

And yet...

That was the very reason Haji sat upon the deep windowsill in Nishi's Xiānggǎng (Hong Kong) apartment.

Despite his being in southeast Asia, the sky was so reminiscent of those times which seemed a century away—and perhaps they were.

They remained crystalline in his memory, as always, and it was a thoughtless action to sink into them.

Before Haji had even realized what he was doing, his eyes were closed, and the scent of roses drifted up his nostrils. ...Could practically feel their soft petals slipping between his fingers, brushing his skin as they swirled atop the breeze. And, most beautiful of all, was the figure of a girl. She was like an angel, haloed in ethereal light, skin pale and effervescent. Her eyes were a deep red which could easily be mistaken for brown, and her sakura-kiss Victorian dress fluttered luxuriously on the breeze, the heavy folds betraying their cost. She held a bouquet of pink roses in one arm and called out in a tinkling, entrancing voice, "_...ji. Haji._" And her smile—! It was the purest, most beautiful thing upon this earth. It overshadowed even the most perfect rose, the bloom in her hand hardly even capable of being considered a compliment to her beauty.

—"_Haji!_"

A bloody hand thrust forward, the rose petals blackened with flame and torture. They swirled like smoke around the figure perched atop a pyre of bloody corpses, her beauty terrifying in every possible way. The air was tainted with the scent of death, the feeling of sheer terror and hopelessness. Corpses' hands reached for the sky, as though begging the bombers soaring overhead to take them with to Heaven, away from this Hell on Earth. And then the figure turned, a body painted with blood, hair a midnight death to this fiery destruction, her eyes ablaze with a vermillion which made all the blood surround pale in comparison. And she let out a howl as her blade swung with a moonlit arc, flashing with an enmity of unparalleled energy, her smile seemingly lost forever.

_Do—!_ and blood arced through the air.

"...‼" Haji abruptly bust from the reverie.

Forebodingly, he held his hand up. The sun had long since set, making it so his bandaged digits were framed eerily in the moonlight. So much like then... He clenched that hand, holding it to his heart. A single word, a name, escaped his lips, overflowing with an untold agony, an endless ocean of loneliness and unfulfilled longing: "... Saya..."

Even this brief interlude was not allowed to one cursed to wander alone through the eternities, for a roar pierced the silence within which he always seemed to preside.

His eyes jerked open once more, tinted an eerie red just like that girl.

He quickly located the source of the howl with naught but his ears—Jiǔlóng (Kowloon). "...Chiropteran." Without pause, he grabbed his things and leapt through the window, not the slightest hesitation as he moved to face a demon. Nishi's apartment must've been at _least_ ten stories up, yet Haji soared through the air, graceful as a crane with black feathers, to land in the middle of the road in total silence.

—_White light amidst the ascending darkness—_

A car screeched to a halt before him, the driver identifying Haji: "—Just as I thought, it's you indeed." Nishi leaned out the window with a smirk. "You are chasing that monster, too, right? Get in!"

...

Jiǔlóng (Kowloon) towered overhead ominously. Was it just Nishi, or did the wind whistling through the empty corridors sound like a ghostly wail?

The sky was black as pitch overhead, the moon not yet risen. The stars were blotted out by Xiānggǎng de (Hong Kong's) light pollution.

A firm slam of his car door blotted out that eerie feeling, however, as Nishi gazed upon the structure.

Haji moved in absolute silence, walking around to the trunk without releasing a single crunch of soles on gravelly concrete. There was no hesitation in his movements as he opened the trunk to pull out the cello case awaiting him within.

"...Hey—Haji." The silent man paused. "Isn't it about time you answer my question? Who exactly are you—?"

Nishi received naught but a defensive glare.

"... You're still silent, huh—At least tell me about those monsters. Why are you pursuing them?"

The officer fully understood how low a chance there was of Haji actually answering his questions. Not once had he willingly released any information of any sort that could incriminate absolutely anything. Everything about the guy screamed "Secret! Classified! Covert!" Not to mention loneliness. An introverted loneliness which made him lock up every possibly opening. Nothing could be expelled or revealed—for that would be weak. Nishi didn't know why, but weakness seemed to be something Haji despised. Maybe it was how abruptly he'd moved to leave after waking up in an unknown location, as though to escape from what _could've _happened while he was incapacitated. Or maybe it was how he'd failed to acknowledge his own actions earlier, when he'd lapped up Nishi's blood like food for a starving man.

No matter what, Nishi was under the impression Haji would never intentionally dispel any information of any varying sort.

So it was to his great surprise when a somber, _addolorato_ sound came to his ears. It was entrancing how Haji's voice didn't pierce the silence, but melded with it in perfect synchronicity.

"That was a Chiropteran: A monster that lives by drinking human blood."

"...‽" So it was like a Xīxuѐguī (Vampire)‼ ..._Do Leong_...

"Hunting down Chiropterans is my master's duty. So, if I follow them, someday I will discover my master's whereabouts."

With that, Haji pulled his cello case out of the trunk and turned to enter the foreboding structure before them.

Nishi was entranced.

'_—I see, so with that sword... That's the perfectly acceptable reason why he appeared at the scene. ... So, that means that this guy is not related to this matter at all—_'

The officer's hand reached out—

"I see. Then..."

—to grasp the handle of the cello case, removing it from the cellist's grasp.

"I, too, hope that you'll find your master soon."

A dark wind breezed through, fluttering Haji's hair and trench coat. It was oddly fitting for him to be garbed in a white trench coat—white like the full moon—with his midnight black hair. The moon was just beginning to rise, and he stood as a lonesome personification of the scene above. Luna seemed so isolated and lonely without any stars to companion, blocked out by the city lights.

—_A roar of rage ripped through the air, a crescent silver arc bearing down as blood pittered all 'round_—

Haji turned away.

"... Haji?"

The most forlorn expression imaginable crossed the cellist's countenance as he stared at his bandaged hand. It was astounding how lacking and brimming he appeared all at once as he stared at those wrapped digits. The moonlight swung odd shadows across his angular contours, the sharp contrast of pale skin and dark shadow seeming to juxtapose his frustration, his desolation, to the tee.

This did not escape Nishi's gaze.

"... ... You, somehow, look just like a little lost boy who's afraid to go home."

The moment Nishi spoke, the spell was broken, the look gone as Haji looked up at him, stoic façade renewed.

Cello case under his arm, Nishi's voiced quickly translated to a more uplifting tone: "How about this—you can stay in my house until you find your master. My dìdì (younger brother) left some of his things behind. He has no use for them anymore, so you can help yourself to them."

" Dìdì..."

—_This was the end, the coppery scent resolute_—

Nishi didn't turn around as he replied. "He died in the Gulf War. It seems that he was attacked by a monster-like creature, and lost a lot of blood—died from it, in fact."

Because Nishi didn't turn around, he missed the next look which contorted Haji's countenance. It was an expression of hardship and denied grief. The face of a soldier befallen with a lurid fate—long accepted.

His bandaged hand clenched in a tight fist, he released it, stance stiff.

"This cello case..." Nishi continued, popping open the trunk; "is a very important thing, right? Leave it here for now, to keep it safe." In the same motion of placing the case in the car, the officer grabbed a rifle. "Moreover ... it's better not to be weighed down by anything when fighting with that monster."

High, high above the pair, a bat-like shape soared across the moon's mercurial disk. The sky was lit by Luna's monochrome shimmer, clouds a vaporous drift of darker blackness before her veil, peaks a lighter gray from the blackened sky where the light reflected off the vapor. For such an ethereally beautiful scene, that single silhouette marred its splendor with an unnatural scent of bloodlust, a sight of frenzied, jerky movements; as though hungering for something forbidden.

They could already sense the blood-spatter to come.

"—Let's go."

...

These halls might have been dubbed familiar, for they all blended together into one monotonous haze of wires, pipes, and trash; however, the destination for which they were traversed was far different. Such became most apparent with staircases Nishi and Haji now climbed.

As they got further up, Nishi came to notice that Haji was no longer a step or two below him, but instead nearly ten.

"..."

Haji seemed equally frustrated, and his breaths came in heavy, albeit stifled, pants.

This couldn't be good. "... Haji? Are you alright?"

A memory at the cellist's weakness when he'd first attempted to leave the apartment. That had followed his astounding defiance of physics, leaping at least twenty stories to tear apart the "Chiropteran" with his bare hands. While certainly not nearly as horrifying, Haji had earlier leapt from Nishi's apartment window, a good ten stories up. Could that be it? Or had that only further complicated an already underlying problem?

"Is it because your body hasn't fully recovered ..."

Hunting a Chiropteran in less than peak condition was _not_ a smart idea—it had thrown Nishi down like a ragdoll!—especially considering the circumstances, and nothing good would come of one man being down before the battle had even begun. Particularly when that man was the only one who knew what the hell he was doing.

Spoken quietly, almost veiled by his breaths, "... ...Still not enough..."

Enough? "What..."

The conversation was cut short, however, as a shiver of dread raced down Nishi's spine, his blood running cold, the hairs on the back of his neck rising on instinct—ingrained instinct screaming of the incoming danger.

And there was only one thing that danger could be.

With a shock, Nishi spun around, just in time to catch sight of the Chiropteran bearing down upon them from a gaping hole the roof. It let out a bloodcurdling screech as it dropped upon them, claws curled, wings spread, tongue hanging.

Tightening his grip on the shotgun, Nishi gaped at the beast.

"—Damn! Was it waiting for us in ambush...‽"

Such a thought was simply too terrifying to contemplate. That a monster of such power, wielding such terror, could hold the intelligence to strategize an _ambush_. How had it known they were coming? How had it known where to lie in wait, to wait for that opportune moment when both Nishi and Haji were distracted? All those variables—yet this monster had planned for this and was now racing towards them with a radiating bloodlust.

Nishi raised his gun, finger twitching for the trigger—

Too late—to slow! The Chiropteran speared straight into the wall, and it was all Tatsuyoshi Nishi could do to throw himself to the floor, just barely avoiding another searing claw mark across his body like last time. Through the dust and debris flung up by the beast's strike, he could just make out a black and white blur. Falling. Out the hole in the wall, twenty stories up!

"Haji!"

With another shock, Nishi stared in amazement as Haji kept his cool, that same expressionless mask from before never wavering, and he latched onto a pipe, then levered himself upwards with superhuman speed, bounding off walls, leaping higher than Jiǔlóng de (Kowloon's) rooftops with grace easily rivaling that of a ballerina. What an amazing dance it was, and the officer could only continue to gaze on, mouth gaping, as Haji twisted his body and controlled his fall. With more power and speed than even the monster had been able to muster in its ambush, the stoic man _rammed_ into the Chiropteran with his bandaged fist, and both creatures of the night impacted with the concrete courtyard over twenty stories below with a resound _Thud!_

The Chiropteran let out an ear piercing screech, blood arcing. Its wings flapped and it took flight, taking Haji with.

Finally, Nishi managed to pull himself out of his shock, and he raced up the stairs with the fervor of a madman, cursing all the way: "Damn, the roof‽"

He could hear flapping and the sickening pitter of blood above.

All the while, Haji clung to the Chiropteran with single-minded determination. He clenched its throat, attempting to steer its wild panic, instead succeeding only in sending it into a nerve-wracking dive.

Flesh skidded across coarse concrete, blood flaying outwards, stone cracking, bones shattering. The Chiropteran tore itself to shreds on the rooftop, skinning itself alive, before friction finally pulled it to a stop with a savage crash.

Amidst the rubble, Haji staggered to his feet, barely able to stand as his lungs strained, throat clenched and all too dry.

The beast was not yet felled.

Its red eye snapped open, blood-light glinting.

It gave a demonic grin when it latched onto the man, slamming him down with a rib-cracking crash, claws raised to slice off his head. Those goblin eyes were wide and red as it leaned forward, tongue wagging, and its foot-long claws surged forward—

A _bang!_ rang through the night, a hole suddenly appearing in the monster's right leg. It let out a screech, outraged at this insolent mortal's interference with _its_ kill, _its_ prey, _its _hunt.

"—Haji!" Nishi cried, already cocking his rifle, reloading, all too ready to tear the beast apart for injuring his friend. He did not hesitate to jump in front of Haji and blast slug after slug into that leathery hide. Blood shot out in all directions, spattering loudly on the concrete.

Smoke curled, and by the light of the flashing shots, Haji gazed upon Nishi in awe.

"—Are you alright‽"

For a long moment, Nishi received no reply, as the cellist simply sat there, stunned, gratified, unable to comprehend the concept that this man would risk his own life for Haji's ilk.

"—Haji?"

"Ah..."

In the next second, his expression was wiped clean and that blankness returned to dominate Haji's pale visage. "... I'm fine."

Nishi let out a sigh of relief. "I see. Well, with this, this thing won't be able to move anymore—" Nishi spoke absently, reaching inside his coat for some more bullets: "But just in case, I'll fire a few more rounds into him..."

Nishi was too busy to see the Chiropteran charging, but Haji saw the beast all too clearly and shouted out a warning. "—Nishi‼"

Only then to the officer spin around, his vision filled with that huge mass of _monster_ charging towards him like a brick wall, a great roar bursting from its gaping maw as it moved in for the kill.

"What..." It was too shocking, he couldn't comprehend how the thing could even move, let alone shoot from the ground with gaping holes in all four limbs. That split second it took to comprehend the monster bearing down upon him, the energy put forth spinning around and not shooting—

_Bang!_ And another!

Nishi cowered feebly behind his rifle, awaiting death, but it didn't come. Instead, two new holes appeared in the Chiropteran's wings, and it let out grating cries of pain, distress, disbelief. Shot after shot pummeled into the beast, throwing it to the ground with their sheer force.

With a foot propped up on the railing, Isaac stood cool and collected, his pistol-turned-handgun smoking as he held it steady. A breeze lifted his tie, fluttered his hair, but Isaac's eyes did not move, did not waver, and as his glasses glinted, Nishi could recognize without a doubt that this suited man held the eyes of a soldier—the eyes of a man accustomed to killing.

The next shot went smack dab in the middle of the Chiropteran's forehead, and it _soared_ backwards, slamming into the raising as three more bullets pounded into its chest, throwing it back, back, back, lifeblood tracing its path, a blinking red arrow.

"—Haji!" It was a command.

Without hesitation, Haji charged forward, a blur of black and white, bandages billowing as he discarded them with but a twitch of his fingers. He shot through the air—and sliced off the smiling goblin's head with his bare hand.

The monster's body tumbled into the darkness of the concrete jungle below, a black scarecrow, a bat with its wings shredded. Isaac charged forward. A grenade flew from his hand, over the railing, straight for the grinning goblin falling so far below.

_Ka—dooooon‼_

The entirety of Jiǔlóng Zhài Chéng (Kowloon Walled City) trembled with the intensity of the explosion.

And there Isaac stood, just as cool, just as calm, just as collected, as that first meeting. If anything, the blonde man seemed more suited to this warzone than the station's offices, despite his shined shoes and pressed pants. His tailored suit was completely untouched, despite the fact that he had just gone through a bloody, explosive battle, and with a flick of his hair, Isaac regarded Nishi with a familiar disdain.

"... Isaac ..." Nishi regarded the blonde warily, sweat dripping as he slowly came down from the adrenaline high of the battle.

Isaac coolly slipped his gun back in its holster, hidden beneath that custom-fitted jacket. "I told you, didn't I? You should stay away from this if you don't want to die. If you don't destroy 'that thing' completely, it will soon regenerate—

"It's impossible to stop it completely with that little firepower. Thanks to you, our plans are totally screwed up. —I guess there's no choice about it." Isaac didn't even spare Nishi's rifle a passing glance, despite his obvious disdainful regard of the weapon. Or maybe it was Nishi he was regarding as such. Nevertheless, his attentions were quickly shifting towards none other than the mysterious man known only as Haji. "—But with this, we can confirm something. The 'Follower of Saya' mentioned in Joel's Diary is... you isn't, that right?"

The blonde dropped to one knee, as though he were bowing. "We have been looking for you, Haji. —You are the only one."

As Haji finally turned his head to face the kneeling Isaac, Nishi knew his world was about to be blown. The way the moon haloed that midnight-black hair—he knew something evil was afoot. Treachery, deception, darkness manifested... Red eyes glowed from beneath that veil of darkness, lighted up by none other than Luna's deceptive shimmer.

—_Evil itself had befallen them; nothing would ever be the same_—

"The world has only one weapon to defeat those creatures, 'Saya'—and you are the only one that can awaken her—

"The only Chevalier, her family member."

'_... What...did he...say...?_'

* * *

**A/N**  
Well, it's only taken...sixteen months... but I've finally posted chapter three!

Thoughts? Comments? Confusion? Come on—I need encouragement to write the next three chapters! I have, like, a five thousand word average per chapter. That doesn't just _happen_!


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